His First
by smearedliner
Summary: Beyond Birthday commits his first murder, taking advantage of the fact that his victim has stockholm syndrome. WARNING: FOR A MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY!


Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.

WARNING: This story is only intended for very mature audiences only!

Beyond Birthday sat on the dirty sofa of the abandoned warehouse that he'd deemed fit to bring what would be his first murder victim to, devouring a jar of strawberry jam. Sticking a jam slathered hand in his mouth, B studied his victim with a complacent expression on his face. Her name was Anna Myers, a 24 year old pre school teacher. The image that came with a pre school teacher was very deceiving as far as this women was concerned. During the month that he had spent tailing her in order to observe her daily life style, B had discovered that Anna was trash, a full time whore, quite literally. In addition to teaching pre school on the week days, Anna was also cheating on her boyfriend with several other men including his brother, as well as working the street corners of LA, selling herself for what B assumed was a very cheap offer.

A smirk enveloped his face whenever Anna began to stir. It took her a few moments to come to after she opened her eyes, which widened with horror when she took in where she was. Screaming, Anna rattled the chains to the handcuffs, which were cuffed to the posts of the bed B had chained her to. B assumed that Anna wouldn't mind that the bed was dirty, seeing as Anna herself was absolutely filthy as a person.

"Please mister, I'll give you whatever you want," Anna whimpered, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Please just let me go. I'll let you fuck me for free if that's what you want, just please, please let me go," She sobbed. "Please."

"Shh, Anna," B cooed, screwing the top back onto his jam jar and placing it on the floor in front of the couch. "But pleading with me won't help you." B reached into the back pocket of his jeans, extracting a switch blade. Anna screamed again when she saw it. B flipped the blade up with ambidextrous hands, proceeding to clean it with his shirt. "Don't be scared, it will all be over soon," He said, stalking over to the bed.

Anna jumped when B placed the blade on the bedside table, meeting her gaze for the first time. The room was utterly silent as Anna took in her assailant. Messy black hair, handsome face, piercing abnormal red eyes. B gave an amused snicker, observing Anna's eyes, a look of lust reflecting in them as they trailed down to his crotch. B could honestly say he was a little flattered. _'Huh, so it seems she has Stockholm Syndrome, very interesting,'_

A look of pure terror mingled with the lust whenever B sat down on the corner of the bed. "So tell me Anna, do you roll play with the men that you fuck. Particularly kidnapping scenes?" B asked.

"That's none of your business, you bastard," Anna spat, struggling against the handcuffs.

"I guess your right, but seeing as how I am going to murder you, your stating the answer really wouldn't matter," B replied. "But don't worry," He whispered, leaning forward to whisper in her ear, "I won't tell."

The feeling of B's hot breath on her ear cut off the scream building up in her throat. Sighing, she relaxed, her eyes drifting closed. B thought this was an interesting observation. By her relaxing, it was as if she were resolving herself to her inevitable fate, caring not whatever he did to her next.

B discovered that the fact that he was in total control of someone before the last moments of their life actually made him horny. This girl, after all was a street corner whore. Why deny her some pleasure in the last hour of her life while indulging in some pleasure of his own A win win situation.

B wondered if Anna actually tasted as filthy as her existence was. Putting food for that thought, B licked a line from her neck to her collar bone as his hands yanked her shirt up, revealing her bare, silicone sculpted breasts.

Instead of putting up a struggle like B thought she would as he massaged her breasts, Anna moaned, arching her back as if to offer herself to him. Well, you can't rape the willing.

Seeing as how Anna couldn't, B removed all the garments concealing the lower half of her body. He removed his shirt as well, discarding the bundle of clothes on the dirty floor. B licked and bit a line down her stomach, nudging her legs open with his knees. He licked between her legs, massaging the tip of his tongue over the now throbbing nub between her legs, causing her to writhe and moan. She spread her legs wider, a sign that B took for him to continue. B complied with her request.

After a few minutes, B rose to his knees, gazing out the dusty window, unbuttoning his jeans. It was too bad that he couldn't indulge too much longer in this little tirade, the sun was beginning to rise. Laying down on top of her, B thrust himself hard and fast inside of her, which brought a scream of pleasure from Anna. The pleasured scream was one of many as B thrust fast, hard, and rough, which brought him to finish quickly.

Climbing off of Anna, B was unconcerned with whether she had finished with him or not. Buttoning his pants, he crossed the room to the bedside table. Taking up the switch blade in his hands, B, with one swift and precise motion turned and slit Anna's throat.


End file.
